


This Christmas, I Give You My Heart

by thedark_before_thedawn



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedark_before_thedawn/pseuds/thedark_before_thedawn





	This Christmas, I Give You My Heart

We’re sitting here; beneath the tree. Her eyes lit up like her seven year old self when she’d seen that Santa had visited. That innocent joy in her eyes; but this time it was me who’d caused it. The lights on the tree highlighted her slightly less orange hair and her green eyes were staring down to beneath the tree where there were two small presents left. One was labelled for her, one labelled for me. They were the same size and I lightly giggled to myself when I thought about my gift to her; a promise. A promise to always be there for her, a promise to always love her, a promise to always listen to her when she’s rambling about nonsense, hold her when she’s too exhausted to face the world, comfort her when the thunder outside her windows makes her dive beneath her sheets, murmur her favourite song when she can’t get to sleep, no matter how much I hate singing, and never leave her; even if she tells me to go.

I’ll always catch her tears before they fall from her cheeks, bite my tongue when she’s angry and just needs something and someone to pick on, and most of all, always remind her of the beautiful person she is, inside and out; no matter how much she doesn’t believe me.

This is it. This is how I tell her all those things and tell them to the world. I’m 33. I shouldn’t be afraid to love the person who has consumed my heart; and she has; and now I’m giving her my heart for her to keep as long as we live.

My heart flutters and skips beats when I unwrap my present. There’s a little black box in my hands and one in hers. Our eyes look up and meet, already teary; we both know. Keeping eye contact, we open the box and stare down at the same time. My cheeks ache from the grin spread across my face. I’d mentioned this ring before; we’d been strolling through London and we’d stopped to peer in a jeweller’s window and this ring caught my eye. I’d never had expected her to remember it; but then again, I suppose she’d have never expected me to remember the one I got her. We’d seen it in the same window; she loved it because it went with the one I loved.

I looked up to see her smiling at me with tears gently rolling down her face. I moved forward and sat in the gap between her legs, with my own legs wrapped around her waist. Her face, cupped gently in my hands, and my thumbs softly caressing her cheeks; catching the tears. I leaned in to softly kiss her. She kissed back but more passionately. I had to remind myself of why we were kissing. I slowly pulled away, resting my forehead against hers, my nose rubbing against hers.

“So?” I whispered.

“Marry me, Isabella.” She whispered with a smile.

I smiled back, looking into her eyes and said, “Marry me, Florence.”

We laughed slightly before kissing once more. My hands went from her face and trailed down her body until I found her left hand. I interlocked our fingers and broke away from her kiss to kiss her hand softly, before taking the ring from her little black box. Resting my forehead against hers once again, I looked down as I slid it onto her finger; perfect fit. She then took my hand and did the same; perfect fit. We giggled as we looked down at our rings. She lifted my chin gently, with her finger.

“I love you so much, my little machine.”

“I love you too, Flossie, so much.”

She laughed and kissed me. “I love you more.” She whispered.

“I love you most.” I said.

A few more tears fell from her eyes before she leaned in once more. And I swear, ten years later, my stomach still flipped when her lips brushed against mine.

“Merry Christmas, Isa.”

“Merry Christmas, Florence.” I smiled as my hand gently rubbed her stomach; her other present for me.


End file.
